User blog comment:Llamao/ The Revolts of the Dreaded Lands/@comment-1607590-20110516235726

''Kleet; hearing the ruckus from the slave compounds, snatches up a satchel shoving a dried pile of plants into it and a few small vials. Hobbles along out of tent quickly cloak dragging behind self as she makes her way towards the compounds mumbling to herself all the way. Suffering... hm sickness, all there ever is anymore... My, my... Hmmm... looks up before she enters the compounds'' Yes.. hm... sky still green... ''grumbles some then hobbles along towards where the slaves are kept looking for the ones sick with 'The Great Rotting Sickness'.